


Every now and then I kick the living shit (out of me)

by dishonestdreams



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dishonestdreams/pseuds/dishonestdreams
Summary: Bruce can't have the things he wants in the ways he wants them.  He isn't safe.  That's just the way it is.Tony disagrees.  Vehemently.Pepper largely despairs.





	Every now and then I kick the living shit (out of me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/gifts).



Bruce has blood on his face and he can’t remember where it came from.

It’s itchy; his skin feels tight and drawn where it has dried and he’s fairly sure that if he shifts just a little and twitches the muscle in his cheek, it will flake away like old paint.

He doesn’t move. He’s not sure he can shed the blood of some unknown adversary ( _victim_ ) without losing the contents of his stomach, and he’s always a little afraid, _after_ , to find out what those might be.

“It’s still you,” Pepper says softly, but there are unhappy lines around her mouth that Bruce doesn’t remember seeing this morning and she keeps absent-mindedly smoothing her skirt in that way that she does when she doesn’t want them to know that she’s worried about something.

Tony doesn’t say anything, but Bruce doesn’t really expect him to. That he’s even here is something close to miraculous and, at another time, under different circumstances, Bruce would wonder about that. Right now, he can’t focus beyond the rigid line of Tony’s back and the hunch in his shoulders. He’s here, but he doesn’t _want_ to be.

Bruce thinks he might throw up anyway.

“You’re still you,” Pepper says again, firmer this time, although Bruce isn’t sure which of them she is trying to convince, and he lets out a slow, measured breath.

“Is he the man,” he asks, “Or am I the monster?” The words fall ugly and fat with accusation, although Bruce is genuinely unsure who exactly he is accusing of what. Pepper’s eyes narrow, and she folds her arms tightly across her chest. She disapproves; that much is clear, but Bruce can live with her disapproval. It’s preferable to some of the other options. 

There’s a clatter from his left; the unmistakeable clank of something being slammed against a workbench and Bruce turns, just in time to catch a glimpse of the back of Tony’s head before the door slides smoothly closed behind him. Bruce is fairly sure that the only reason the door doesn’t slam is that Tony’s programmed them for controlled closure.

He’s not sure that knowledge makes him feel any better.

Pepper sighs, “Bruce,” she says, and it’s the start of something, something Bruce isn’t sure he’s ready to hear. He’s suddenly exhausted, a bone deep tiredness that he hasn’t felt since the early days of his transformations, when his body wasn’t used to it, and he holds up one hand to stop her.

“Can we...not?” he says, and there must be something in his voice or his posture that gives him away, because Pepper hesitates for a second before she gives a short nod.

“Later,” she says, and it’s clearly a promise, but Bruce doesn’t really care. He doesn’t want to talk; he just wants a shower, solitude and sleep (not necessarily in that order) and to _not think_ about any of this for a little while.

“Schedule me in,” he says tiredly.

*****

Within two days, every door in the tower has been upgraded to include a forced speed closure option. Bruce doesn’t bring it up and Tony doesn’t offer an explanation. It feels like the beginning of the end, though, and that’s probably for the best.

(It makes it a little difficult to breathe, for a while, but Bruce can work through it. He has to.)

*****

He’s not sure why they took him in. They were better before he arrived. They were rock solid before he arrived and they _fit_ , in the elusive way that Bruce hasn’t fit with anything since he made the stupid decision to act as human guinea pig in his own laboratory. Tony’s a loose cannon, sure, but Pepper’s the steadying hand that keeps him pointing in the right direction, most of the time at least. At the same time, he gives her an escape hatch; he taps into her spontaneous side and stops her losing herself in the twisted maze of schedules and plans and corporate meetings that she’s so, so good at, but that leave her looking so, so wan and drawn at the end of every day.

As a team, they’re largely unstoppable and Bruce can’t really blame himself for getting drawn in. He’d tried, so hard, to keep them at arm’s length, for their protection as much as for his own but they are the immoveable object and the irresistible force, and he couldn’t stop himself from falling.

What he’s never understood is _why_ they tried so hard to catch him in the first place.

*****

“No,” Tony says flatly, and Bruce feels rather than hears the growl that rises up from the base of his rib cage.

“I’m not...you have to...” Bruce can’t form full sentences anymore; there’s a green haze colouring the edges of his mind that’s making it difficult to hold onto a coherent thought, but he knows, right in the marrow of his bones that this is a Bad idea. This isn’t Iron Man; this isn’t Tony in a protective cocoon of metal, Jarvis and engineering brilliance. This is just Tony; flesh and bone, misplaced trust and epic self-destruction.

“Tony,” he says, or tries to, but his vision is blurring, and the consonants are devoured by something that’s more a snarl than speech. “ _Go!_ ”

Tony’s expression is downright mulish. “No,” he says again and he leans in, heedless of the _stupid levels of risk_ he’s taking. “You won’t hurt me.”

He sounds _so_ sure, and Bruce desperately, painfully wants to believe him, but. Bruce doesn’t get what he wants.

Bruce doesn’t deserve what he wants.

Tony’s watching him, his expression sharply perceptive in that way that Bruce sometimes forgets he can be. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, every word heavy with certainty. Bruce wants to sob, because he’s _wrong_ , but everything is cracked and shifting, and the sob is smothered under an ear-shattering roar as his body tears and remoulds itself and his sense explode into a kaleidoscope of jagged colours and piercing sounds.

The last thing he sees is Tony’s satisfied nod.

*****

He dreams about them sometimes. Never anything coherent, just colours and sounds. The hue of Pepper’s hair. The twist of Tony’s smile. Things he’s intimately familiar with, even though he shouldn’t be, and the dreams start as a balm.

They never end that way. Wherever he begins, all paths lead to the same place. The tone of Pepper’s broken scream, choked away by thick fingers. The crunch of Tony’s skull under a broad foot. Crimson smears on satin sheets.

Bruce always wakes the same way; soaked and shaking and with the insistent blare of monitor alarms ringing in his ears.

He’s never spent a full night with them yet. Just in case.

*****

“...stupid, irresponsible, reckless, hurtful, poorly conceived...” Pepper trails off but she sounds _pissed_ and Bruce’s head is throbbing a slow, sick pulse. He keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to know.

“What on _earth_ were you thinking?” Pepper says, crossly.

“Science,” Tony says cheerfully and Bruce’s eyes fly open, because that’s _Tony_ and he sounds happy and a little bit smug and _alive_ and Bruce needs to see him. Tony’s standing at the end of his bed, apparently oblivious to the narrow-eyed glare that Pepper’s levelling at him, and he shoots Bruce a quick smile. “I was testing a hypothesis.”

“Yes, thank you Tony,” Pepper says, with just a touch of exasperation, “I’d established that. What I’m still failing to understand is why I wasn’t _involved_ in the tests. There are, after all, three of us in this relationship.”

“In case I was wrong,” Tony says immediately, and Bruce’s breath catches in his throat as Pepper’s eyes widen. “Which, yes, yes, I’m important too, blah blah, but honestly Pep, I was pretty certain about being right, but I wasn’t actually prepared to risk you on a _pretty certain_.” He shoots Bruce a conspiratorial glance before he adds, “I’m pretty certain I’m not alone in that either.”

“Yes,” Bruce croaks out, immediately, and Pepper glances across at him.

“You’re both idiots,” she informs them tartly, “And, while I appreciate the sentiment in principle, I do _not_ appreciate either being excluded from the decision-making or the inherent assumption that I am in some way more valuable than either of you.”

“Duly noted,” Tony says, but it’s too quick and Pepper’s eyes narrow again.

“I’m serious, Tony,” she says and Tony nods.

“Yep,” he says, “I get it. I mean, we both know I’m going to ignore it, but I do hear you Pep, I swear.”

Pepper raises her eyes to the ceiling. “Bruce,” she says, slow and measured and so very carefully _Pepper_ , “I really need you to pull your head out of your ass and help me deal with him.

Bruce blinks, “I don’t-“ he starts and Pepper raises one hand to effectively cut him off mid-thought.

“There is neither enough tolerance, nor enough time in the world for me to address the fact that you are _both_ idiots,” she says, “Therefore, I need one of you to start behaving like a rational adult and, frankly, you are a far better bet for that than Tony.”

“She’s right,” Tony cuts in cheerfully, before Bruce has a chance to think of a reply, “Which reminds me, Big Green gave me a message for you.”

Bruce blinks again. “For me?” he says stupidly. It feels like he’s running to try and catch up and yet this conversation is still leaving him standing.

“Yep,” Tony hops up onto the end of the bed, sitting cross-legged like a child, and hold out his right hand. “Take a look.”

Bruce can’t breathe. Carefully positioned, in the middle of Tony’s palm, smeared and oily but still distinctly recognisable, is an oversized thumbprint.

Bruce has no idea what to make of it.

“Huh,” Pepper says thoughtfully from over his shoulder, where she’s obviously moved to get a better look, “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there are two rational adults in this relationship.”

Bruce doesn’t say anything. He can’t stop looking at that deliberate, _careful_ mark.

*****

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says to the mirror. The mirror is, predictably, quiet in response, but Bruce hadn’t expected anything more.

He probably didn’t deserve anything more.

“I don’t think you need to say it,” Pepper says quietly from behind him, and Bruce looks away from his own reflection to her reflection in the doorway over his shoulder and there’s a pulse of _want_ low in his belly. She’s beautiful in her usual understated way; the deep green of her slip complimentary against her skin while also highlighting the shades in her eyes. Bruce doesn’t deserve her; he doesn’t deserve either of them, but he _wants_.

Now he’s just pretty sure he’s not the only one.

“Probably not,” he agrees, and he looks back to meet his own eyes in the mirror again, “But I feel like I _should_.”

Pepper nods, “I can understand that. But perhaps you need to show rather than tell?”

“That’s not just for him,” Bruce admits, and Pepper steps away from the doorway and up behind him. She’s warm against his back, her loose hair a light tickle against his skin and Bruce takes a deep breath as the spicy-sweet scent of her shampoo envelops him.

“Show us too then,” she murmurs, the words vibrating across his skin where her mouth is pressed against his shoulder and she slides her arms around his waist. “We’re watching.”  
“If you’re both done emoting at each other, there is a _really_ comfortable bed getting cold in here,” Tony yells from the other room, and the moment is broken as Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Yes, thank you Tony,” she says, just a hint of exasperation colouring her tone and Bruce bites back a smile. Pepper smiles back at him, small and secretive in her reflection and she steps back. 

“Coming?” she asks and Bruce nods.

“In a minute,” he says, “I just need to...”. He waves a hand at the mirror in lieu of actual words and Pepper nods once.

“Of course,” she says, “But don’t be too long?”

She doesn’t wait for his answer before she slips out of the door; a level of trust that Bruce hasn’t earned and doesn’t deserve and still can’t quite believe he gets to have. Bruce takes one last glance at himself in the mirror. “I’ll make it right,” he says quietly, quiet enough that neither Pepper nor Tony would be able to hear him. It’s fine; the message isn’t really meant for them anyway.

He doesn’t say anything else as he turns to follow Pepper back into the bedroom but he doesn’t miss the approving flash of green in the eyes of his reflection and he’s pretty certain it isn’t a trick of the light. 

He’s not doing this alone.


End file.
